Despair and Hope
by Gwendolyn James
Summary: She felt like everything inside of her had been dumped into a cauldron, mixed up and swirled around, and then dumped out at her feet, leaving her to figure out the mess. It was rather annoying, actually. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: Not mine! All belongs to the great Jo. Some of the quotes in this fic are directly from Book Six - mostly from chapter fifteen, beginning on page 316 (US Version). In other words, **MAJOR HBP SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!  
**

A/N: My first post-HBP fic! Yays! I've been super busy since starting my new job, but I finally managed to make some time for writing! I hope this was worth the wait. Enjoy!

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She really wished she could change her mind. 

Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she could turn around and slip back up the stairs before he…

No, never mind, there he was. Hermione fixed a smile on her face and moved forward to meet her date for the evening.

Cormac raised an eyebrow and gave her an appreciative grin – well, it may have been more of a leer, but Hermione was too busy suppressing the urge to run in other direction to really notice how McLaggen was looking at her. Her brain didn't even register the fact that they were walking down the corridors until they were nearly to Slughorn's office.

Hermione was _not_ looking forward to this evening, to say the least. What on earth had possessed her to bring _McLaggen_ as her escort to the Christmas party? True, it was sure to drive Ron completely mad, but when had she become that kind of girl? I just wasn't like her to use other people to make someone else jealous.

Or was it?

Merlin, she didn't even know herself these days. It was a rather frustrating experience to find oneself in love with one's best friend, but to have to see that friend attached at the face to someone else? Pure torture, that's what it was. Hermione felt like everything inside of her had been dumped into a cauldron, mixed up and swirled around, and then dumped out at her feet, leaving her to figure out the mess. It was rather annoying, actually.

"… and there was the time that I dangled by one foot off my broom, and…"

Oh, right, Cormac. Hermione sighed inwardly and tried her hardest to pay attention to her date, but he was rambling on about Quidditch, and quite frankly, she didn't care to listen. "Er, Cormac?" she interrupted. "Why don't we get something to drink?"

McLaggen nodded in agreement and launched into yet another story of yet another spectacular save. It was going to be a long evening, Hermione decided later as she absently sipped her drink. She kept moving around the room subtly, shifting her position a bit at a time, in hopes that someone else might bump into them and draw McLaggen's attention away from Quidditch.

Unfortunately, she realized in horror, she had taken them directly underneath the mistletoe. And equally as unfortunate was the fact that McLaggen saw it at the same time she did, effectively ruining her plan to cleverly move away.

This time the leer was unmistakable as he lowered his lips to hers. Hermione didn't have time to register what was happening or formulate an escape until it was too late. However, as soon as her brain came back into her control, McLaggen got a forceful shove in the chest.

"What was that for?" he demanded angrily, rubbing the spot where Hermione had hit him.

"You could have at least _asked_," she retorted.

"Oh, I see," he said, nodding imperiously, "it's that whole hard-to-get game you girls like to play. Right. Well, you don't have to pretend with me." He gripped her upper arm with surprising strength and tried to kiss her again, but Hermione was faster this time. Her wand was out and pointed at his chest before he knew what was happening.

"Let me make it clear for you, McLaggen," she snapped. "If you try to kiss me again, I'll hex you into next week."

McLaggen scowled, but didn't release his grip on her arm. "What kind of girl doesn't want to be kissed under the mistletoe?"

"The kind of girl who has enough brain cells to know you're a total prat." She raised her wand another inch. "Now let go of me or you'll regret it."

She could hear him calling after her as she weaved a path through the crowd, massaging her surely bruised arm and fighting back tears. She hated herself right now, hated the fact that she had even _considered_ taking him to the party, hated the fact that she was back where she had begun – alone, pathetic, and wishing that Ron was with her.

"Hermione! _Hermione!_"

She turned around at the sound of her name, grateful that it wasn't McLaggen this time. "Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!"

"What's happened to you?" asked Harry, looking at her strangely.

Hermione realized that she looked awfully disheveled and tried to act nonchalant. "Oh, I've just escaped – I mean, I've just left Cormac," she said. "Under the mistletoe," she added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her.

"Serves you right for coming with him," he told her severely.

"I thought he'd annoy Ron most," she replied with a shrug, hoping that Harry wouldn't ask too many questions about it. "I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole –"

"_You considered Smith?_" said Harry, revolted.

"Yes, I did, and I'm starting to wish I'd chosen him," she said, annoyed at herself. "McLaggen makes Grawp look like a gentleman. Let's go this way, we'll be able to see him coming, he's so tall…"

She led the way to the other side of the room to where Professor Trelawney was standing, hoping that it would distract Harry, but he pulled her aside and said, "Let's get something straight. Are you planning to tell Ron that you interfered at Keeper tryouts?"

She really didn't want to discuss Ron at the moment, but she answered anyway. "Do you really think I'd stoop that low?"

"Hermione, if you can ask out McLaggen –"

"There's a difference," she said, trying to maintain her dignity. "I've got no plans to tell Ron anything about what might, or might now, have happened at Keeper tryouts."

"Good," Harry replied, clearly relieved. "Because he'll just fall apart again, and we'll lose the next match –"

"Quidditch!" Hermione snapped, angry at Harry for having a one-track mind and angry at herself for being vindictively glad that Ron would 'fall apart' if he knew what she'd done. "Is that all boys care about? Cormac hasn't asked me one single question about myself," she added, omitting the bit about their date being over and why, "no, I've just been treated to 'A Hundred Great Saves Made by Cormac McLaggen' nonstop ever since – oh no, here he comes!"

Before Harry had a chance to reply, Hermione squeezed through the crowd and hurried toward the exit, not stopping until she was alone in the corridor, breathing hard and desperately wishing that she could disappear completely.

Now what to do? She really didn't want to go back up to the common room, knowing exactly what she would find when she got there. No, seeing Ron and Lavender glued together was _not_ her idea of a spectacular end to the evening. Unfortunately, her other options weren't any better. She couldn't very well wander the castle grounds after hours, the library had been closed for hours, and she wasn't really in the mood to find an empty classroom to practice her spellwork. With a sigh of resignation, Hermione ascended the stairs to the Gryffindor common room and climbed through the portrait hole, trying her very best to ignore the sounds of a snogfest coming from the chair by the fireplace.

By the time Hermione crawled into bed and pulled the curtains shut around her, silent tears were streaming down her face. What a mess she'd made. She didn't know how she would handle picking up the pieces of her broken heart, but she was profoundly glad that she was leaving for the Christmas holiday in the morning. She fell asleep with the knowledge that she could ignore reality for a little while longer.

Unfortunately, reality was still hounding her months later. She had come back from holiday hoping that everything would somehow be back to normal, but she and Ron were still locked in a battle of wills, each trying to freeze the other out while pretending that they weren't desperate for each other's company.

Actually, maybe that was more normal than she had thought.

Either way, Hermione was miserable. Of course, she put on a very convincing show, determined to prove that she couldn't care less about Won-Won and Lav-Lav, even though the very thought of them made her stomach revolt. Harry naturally saw right through her act, but she continuously put him off. Hope was gone, crushed under the feet of the harsh reality she had tried so hard to ignore. Unluckily for Harry, Hermione had begun to snap at him every time he brought it up. Didn't he get it? She didn't want to pour salt in her bleeding heart by discussing it with him. Or with anyone else, for that matter.

Then it happened.

The news reached her while she was in the library, poring over her Potions essay. Attempting to push down the panic rising in her chest, she rushed to the hospital wing and demanded that Harry tell her everything.

Ron. Love potion. Poisoned.

The words churned in her mind and left her breathless. She didn't care why it happened or who had done it. She just needed to know that he was all right; she just needed to see him.

Conversation flowed around her as she sat by the side of his bed, clutching her fists tightly and unable to take her eyes off his sleeping face. What if Harry hadn't saved him? What if she had lost him forever? What if…? She couldn't bear to think of the possible outcomes. Instead she listened to his incoherent mumbling with a heavy heart and attempted to join in the discussion just to maintain some semblance of control.

Suddenly Ron's incoherent mumbling become quite coherent.

"Er-my-knee," he croaked unexpectedly.

Hermione's heart stopped as she stared down at him, fully aware that everyone else was doing the same. Hope blossomed without warning and Hermione found herself clinging to it desperately. Was it possible? Was it really possible?

Lavender's face flashed across her mind's eye, and hope deflated slightly.

But not completely.

She carried that tiny bud of hope in her heart, aware of it at every moment, aware of the fact that it could be _destroyed_ at any moment. But instead, it slowly began to grow and flower inside of her, also getting a little more beautiful with every moment. And there were a few truly wonderful moments.

Saying, "I love you, Hermione," after she helped him with his work.

Finally breaking it off with Lavender.

Holding her while she cried.

Even though the future looked bleak, even though their whole world was changing, hope remained.

And hope would carry them through.

FIN


End file.
